A Change Of View (Northern Lights Book 2)

by Freya Barker

  “You going to start crying again?” Roar asks, a hand curled under my chin when my eyes fill at Matt’s words.

  “Nope,” I answer, blinking my eyes furiously and breathing deeply.

  “He calls again, I wanna talk to him.”

  “Oh no, no, no. I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I sputter, noticing the grim set of his mouth.

  “He wants to talk to you, he does so respectfully or he deals with me. No room for negotiation on that.”

  I’m about to protest, when I spot Matt hiding a smile behind his hand, and promptly close my mouth.

  Roar

  I make sure Charlie is buckled in before I get behind the wheel.

  There was a time this would be a weekly occurrence, but I can’t get her to come up to the lodge often anymore. First she’d still drive out on her own, before she had a close encounter with a moose one night, but even after that, I’d swing by to fetch her almost weekly for a fish fry. She hasn’t been out here yet this season, but when I told her Leelo and her son would be there for dinner, she was game.

  “How’s the motel coming along?” she asks, as I pull onto the road.

  “Good. She’s pretty busy. The rooms are all done and she’s mostly converted the bar to a dining room. Food is good too. You should come try it ”

  “Would love to,” Charlie smiles before turning her gaze out the window.

  She seems a bit distracted. More than usual and I’m worried about her. Eighty-one years old, and there was a time I thought for sure she’d live forever. She’s by far the strongest person I know, but lately she’s been withdrawing a little. When I asked her the other day about Bob Duran, she didn’t even remember he’d been her date at the music festival a few weeks ago.

  I should make more of an effort to get her out of her apartment.

  “What’s that?”

  She points out the window when we pass the motel.

  “Bobcat,” I answer. They must’ve dropped it off this afternoon.

  We’d done as much clearing as we could by hand yesterday, but we needed that piece of machinery to level the trail properly. Leelo’s already ordered a precast slab to be delivered the end of this week, so in order for the truck to be able to get to the water, we need that trail done.

  “She’s installing a boat launch,” I clarify when Charlie looks at me confused. “That thing can clear rocks and tree stumps we can’t do by hand.”

  “You’ve been helping out then?”

  “When I can,” I concede.

  “Do you think she’ll hack it up here?”

  Charlie’s question surprises me and I turn to find her looking at me intently.

  “I think so. She’s tough, and she seems to love it here.”

  “Good. That’s good.” Charlie leans her head back in her seat and closes her eyes.

  Not entirely sure what that was all about, but I decide to leave it alone and let her have her catnap.

  -

  “So tell me about your plans?”

  Matt, who just walks up with a few fresh beers from the office fridge, is pinned by Charlie’s question. His eyes flit over to his mother before turning back to Charlie.

  The remnants of dinner are burning up in the fire pit, and we’re all sitting back, enjoying the substantially cooler night.

  “They’re still developing,” he says carefully. “I’d love to make a life here. Build a business, and eventually a house, if I find the right piece of property.”

  “Sounds like plans to me. I’m sure your mother won’t mind having you underfoot in the meantime.”

  I hear Leelo’s barely suppressed snort and have a hard time keeping a straight face myself. Although Charlie appears oblivious, Matt isn’t and chuckles out loud.

  “Maybe in small doses, but I have a feeling Mom may have a newfound appreciation for her empty nest. Ouch,” he says in the next breath, ducking to avoid a bottle cap Leelo deftly twists off her beer and aims at his head.

  “I imagine she does,” Charlie mumbles, not half as clueless as I thought she’d be, before continuing a little louder. “I’m getting a little tired. Would you mind terribly driving me home?” I’m ready to get up but her eyes are firmly fixed on Matt.

  “Sure,” he agrees before I have a chance to jump in. “Be happy to drive you home.”

  “Excellent.” My meddling mother is virtually rubbing her hands together as she gets up from her chair. “Gives me a chance to pick your brain about a few repairs I’d like done to my cabin across the lake.”

  “Wait,” Leelo jumps up as well. “Let me just grab my purse. Matt can just throw me out at home.”

  “Nonsense,” Charlie says resolutely. “I’m sure Riordan can drive you home at some point.”

  Effectively manipulated by an octogenarian and a man-child, Leelo and I watch as Matt’s taillights disappear down the road.

  “You said nothing!” She swings around, punching me in the arm.

  “Fuck no. Not gonna hear me complain.” I pull her against me and wrap her in my arms.

  “Jesus, Roar...your mother and my kid...this is embarrassing,” she mumbles into my shirt.

  “Just so you know, your son doesn’t begrudge you this.”

  “How would you know?” she asks, tilting her head back.

  “Because he told me in so many words. As for Charlie, I’m guessing she likes the idea of us.” I let go of her, grab her hand, and snag my bottle from the picnic table. “Now grab your beer and come with me.”

  The night is quiet and the only ripples on the water are those made by my boat and the odd fish. I’m heading north to a quiet inlet, a ways up the lake, where I often go in the early morning hours because it has the best bass fishing. The heat has killed off a lot of the bugs, so it’s a perfect night to do some stargazing. Especially up here, where there is no light pollution.

  A lot of the land on the north side of the lake is only accessible by boat, and it’s easy to imagine we’ve left civilization behind.

  I glance over at Leelo, who is leaning back in the captain’s chair, her eyes fixed on the sky and a ghost of a smile on her lips. The quarter moon paints her face a pale blue, making her look almost ethereal.

  When I turn off the engine, she lazily rolls her head in my direction.

  “Where are we?”

  “My favourite place.” Her smile gets wider as she redirects her gaze back up at the stars.

  “Come here,” I invite her, climbing on the bow of the boat, deep enough for me to stretch out, with my back propped against the windshield. I grab her outstretched hand and help her settle in beside me.

  “This is perfect.” Leelo’s voice is soft, almost reverent.

  I love that.

  I love that she seems to feel the kind of awe that sometimes comes over me when I’m out here. A humble appreciation that someone of my insignificance gets to be witness to a beauty this grand.

  “Thank you for bringing me here,” she says, sitting up and twisting her body to lean in, brushing my lips with hers. Soft at first, tentative, until she deepens the kiss, and my cock instantly hardens in response.

  Next thing I know, she is straddling me, her cut-offs tossed somewhere behind me in the boat. My shirt is off and twisted around my arms, keeping them trapped above my head.

  “Stay still,” she whispers against my lips, as her hands make fast work of the buttons of my shorts, eliminating the last barrier between her heat and my dick.

  It’s hard, holding still, not touching her, and allowing her to set the pace. I want to touch.

  “Uh-uh, use your other senses,” she suggests when I shift, raining kisses on my face, my neck and down my chest. “Let me make you feel.”

  I feel all right. The moment her eager hands release my cock and her lips close over the crown, my hips involuntarily surge up from the deck.

  “Mmmmm,” she hums, only enhancing the sensation and it’s all I can do to keep from tangling my fingers in that blue hair. She’s not in a hurry, leisurel
y exploring me with her mouth and tongue until she has me panting like a racehorse.

  “Please.” I don’t think I’ve ever begged before. “Fuck, Sunshine—you’re killing me.”

  The soft peal of her laughter bounces over the water when she releases my cock. Straightening, she reaches up, untangles my arms from the shirt, and places my hands on her hips. She holds on to my shoulder with one hand and with the other guides me inside her.

  “Get naked,” I growl when she’s fully seated, helping her get rid of her shirt and bra, before leaning back and taking in the view.

  She’s fucking gorgeous, her full body on display like some lush, erotic porcelain doll. The colours of her ink fade out in the moonlight, leaving only a blue-tinted intricate pattern of lines down her arms.

  The newest tattoo, two small birds taking flight from her heart, stands out in stark contrast against the pale skin of her breast.

  TWENTY

  She cares and it’s as intimidating as it is heart-warming.

  Leelo

  “My apologies again.”

  Henry Kline finally called me back. I’d left a few messages on his direct line last week, but I should’ve called the firm’s main number. If I had, I would’ve discovered he was on vacation.

  Henry was my uncle’s lawyer and good friend, although he and I didn’t get off on the right foot. When he first got in touch to notify me my uncle had left me the motel, he’d assumed I would sell and had papers ready for me to sign, but I didn’t want to rush any decisions.

  He’d seemed genuinely surprised when I called him back a few weeks later to let him know I’d decided to get the Whitefish Motel up and running again. He’d voiced concern it might be too much to manage on my own, but I made it clear my mind was made up, and since then he’s been very helpful.

  “No worries,” I reassure him. “Entirely my fault. It’s a relief you were able to dig up the policy. I should probably have a copy on hand.”

  “Probably,” Henry agrees. “In any event, before you call the insurance company, make sure you have a copy of the police report on hand. They’ll want to see that.”

  “I’ll make sure. I’m eager to get this sorted out. It’s no fun trying to do the motel linens in my small washer and dryer. I have to run them all day, every day.”

  “I bet,” Henry says, clearly uninterested in my laundry. “Out of curiosity, how is business?”

  I spend the next twenty minutes filling him in on the improvements already in place, the steady flow of guests, and the success of my little restaurant. He seemed pleased and promised to drop by some time soon to taste my food.

  Outside the morning is heating up. Thunderstorms are expected this afternoon, finally breaking this blasted heatwave. The guys are out there to finish the last stretch of the trail down to the water before the weather hits. It has to be ready for tomorrow morning when the concrete ramp will be delivered.

  Grabbing a few cold bottles of water, I head down to where they are working.

  “Hey,” Roar calls out when he sees me approach.

  At some point he’s taken off his shirt and I do my best not to ogle his sweat-slicked chest. Since our little late night excursion on the lake a few nights ago, I’ve wondered when next I’d have a chance to get him naked. However, with my son just feet away, operating the Bobcat, the timing is clearly off.

  I hand Roar the cold water, but he grabs my arm and pulls me in for a kiss. That’s something new these past few days. Before he’d barely touch me with Matt around, but now he does so freely. Aside from a few pointed looks the first couple of times this happened, by now, Matt barely seems to notice.

  “Do I call Bill for a copy of the police report?” I ask Roar when he lets me up for air. “Henry just called with the insurance information. I want to get this ball rolling, so I can at least get those appliances out of there and give the space a good scrubbing.”

  Instead of answering, he lets me go and pulls his phone from his pocket.

  “Bill?—Yeah, Doyle. Listen, Leelo needs a copy of the police report. You gonna be in the neighbourhood?—Yes, the carcass.—Fine, I’ll let her know.”

  He ends the call and slips the phone back in his pocket. I doubt that conversation even lasted a minute.

  “He has to check on a report of an abandoned vehicle up the road anyway, so he’ll drop it off sometime in the next hour.”

  “You don’t waste words, do you?” I tease. “No hey, how are you doing, just straight to the point.”

  “The phone is for relaying messages—not for casual conversation,” he says, taking a drink of water.

  “Says who?”

  “Me,” he responds instantly, an arrogant smirk behind his beard, but his hazel eyes dance with humour.

  “I’m pretty sure I remember a phone call or two where—”

  “Tell me you brought me a water,” Matt interrupts, climbing out of the Bobcat, but before I have a chance to answer, Roar picks up the bottle and tosses it in his direction. “Sweet,” he says, twisting off the cap and downing half the bottle in one swig, before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “It’s hot as balls.”

  “For now,” Roar says, grinning. “Look north, system coming this way.”

  I look in the direction he’s pointing and sure enough, I can see a dark ridge of clouds and the sky beyond is almost black.

  “Yowza,” Matt blurts out, dropping his bottle in the grass. “Best get this done, that looks like it’s coming fast.”

  “Another hour if we’re lucky,” Roar says before turning to me. “They’re predicting heavy rains and high winds, so check you’ve got all windows and doors secure, and make sure you have enough fuel for the generator. These summer storms can pack a punch up here, and it’s not unusual for power to get knocked out. You want to be prepared.”

  “Shit. Okay, I’ll check. But what about you? Shouldn’t you be doing the same at the lodge?” I ask him.

  “Got ready before I came here this morning,” he explains, throwing an arm over my shoulders and tucking me close. “I’ll head over to keep an eye on things as soon as we’re done here.”

  He kisses the top of my head, gives my shoulder a squeeze and picks up the shovel he dropped earlier. With one last eyeful of his strong back and tight ass, I reluctantly turn back to the motel to get it storm ready.

  -

  I’m just pulling a load of sheets from the dryer when I hear a loud boom outside, followed by an ominous crunching noise before a heavy crash shakes the house, and the next instant everything is dark and eerily quiet.

  The storm hit about thirty minutes ago. Fat raindrops started hitting the roof and windows, drumming out a loud staccato. Not long after that, the wind started howling, almost drowning out the sound of the TV I had tuned to the Weather Network. When the rain stopped falling hard, the sky lit up with lightning.

  Matt went down for a nap after Roar took off. He mentioned they’d probably need to give the trail one more pass tomorrow morning, depending on what the storm will leave behind.

  I’ve just been putzing around since he disappeared. Doing laundry and looking into upgrading the poorly executed, single-page website Uncle Sam apparently put up years ago. One look at it and I decided to start from scratch. Already have a landing page built and was just working on a rates page when the dryer dinged. I’ll need to replace the default images with actual pictures of the motel, maybe of one of the rooms, but that will have to wait for a nicer day.

  Fuck!

  I drop the laundry and run to the computer. The screen is dark.

  You know that slightly nauseating gnaw in your stomach when you wish you could go back just a few minutes and change what you now know to be a disastrous outcome? Right. A few hours of work down the drain because yours truly didn’t save. Not a damn thing.

  Loud knocking on the door separating the house from the bar interrupts my self-flagellation, and I rush to pull it open.

  A very bedraggled Peter Walters stands on the other
side, dripping water all over my floor.

  “So sorry to barge in on you like this, but you may want to come have a look.”

  Something tells me the loss of a few hours of work is going to be the least of my problems. I shove my feet in a pair of flip-flops just inside the door, grab a slicker, and follow Peter through the restaurant to the front.

  The rain is still coming down steadily and even though it’s only four o’clock in the afternoon, it’s almost dark outside. I’m surprised to see the rest of the Walters family sitting in the car in front of unit eight, but when I get closer I see why.

  One of the tall pine trees lining the east side of the property is down, taking with it the hydro pole leading in power from the road, and caving in my roof.

  “Jesus! Is everyone all right?”

  I rush to the car parked out front and peek inside. Mrs. Walters rolls down the window a crack.

  “We’re fine, dear. Just a little plaster dust,” she says, patting her wet hair.

  “The kids?”

  “Not a scratch,” she assures me.

  “Come inside where it’s dry,” I suggest but she firmly shakes her head.

  “Not sure that’s a good idea,” her husband pipes up behind me. “We should probably call the fire department.”

  I whip around to look at him.

  “What?”

  “You have live hydro cables on your roof,” he points out.

  Roar

  “Phone!” Patti is standing in the open office door, yelling through the storm.

  She tried heading home earlier, but a downed tree in the road effectively cut us off from the main road, so she had to turn around.

  I took my truck and went to see if I could chain it to my truck and drag it to the side, but the thing is huge, covering the road from one end to the other, and wedged in the trees on either side.

  There’s no simply pulling it out, it requires a chainsaw, which is why I’m back at the lodge, loading up whatever I think I might need when Patti calls out to me.

  Pulling my beanie down over my eyes, I trot over to where she’s leaning out, my cell in her hand.